A Shadow, a Dragon, and a Thing So Right
by Cielita
Summary: Updated!! Harry and his friends discover love in the air at Hogwarts as a mysterious villian plots to destroy Dumbledore. Several tear-jerker scenes, a wedding, many kisses and hugs. Deadly dragons, etc. Lots of fun to read.


**_A Shadow, a Dragon, and a Thing so Right_**

**Danielle M Keller**

**12-29-02  (updated 7-7-03)**

**_Harry Potter __Fan Fiction_**

**__**

**Summary: This story kind of picks up after the fourth book.  Love is in the air at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as Harry and his friends endeavor to solve the mysteries that abound in these, Harry's fifth and sixth years at Hogwarts.  Who broke open the door that allowed a rock creature to rampage the school?  Who stole Professor McGonagall's shadow?  Who would want Professor Dumbledore dead?  Read on for the details! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, the characters, the school, or anything else of that nature.  Those belong to a very talented author named J.K. Rowling.  ****J  I *did* however create Professor Mephistopheles Damon the Great, ****Isolation****Peak****, and the story surrounding ****Isolation****Peak**** and Mephistopheles.  I also created Salazar's Snare and the story surrounding that.  The two songs in the Christmas Ball scene are "It is You I have Loved" performed by Dana Glover, and "Weak" performed by SWV.  **

**Author's Notes: My longest work of any genre!!  I'm so proud!  Read and review please!  Constructive and Positive criticism always welcome.  E-mail me with feedback: autumn_sunshine@hotmail.com.  **

**Happy ****Reading****!**

****

"How can any person be so awful irritable for so long?" complained Hermione Grainger after one particularly long and painful class with Professor McGonagall.  

            "Perhaps that bun she wears on her head is a bit too tight," said Ron Weasely, eliciting smiles from his comrades.  

            "It could be that her glasses are too low on her nose and cut off the circulation," Hermione returned.

            "Just as likely.  Whatever the real reason is, she sure is crabby today," said Ron.  Harry Potter laughed with his classmates but still seemed to be rather distracted.  

            "What is it, Harry?" asked Hermione.

            "I don't know.  Did you notice that Professor Dumbledore is rather distant lately as well?" Harry commented.

            "Do you think it has anything to do with Professor McGonogall's attitude these days?" asked Hermione.  She seemed surprised at the hypothesis.  

            "It might.  Did you hear?  One of the groundskeepers found a door had been broken last night.  That could be what is distracting Professor Dumbledore," said Harry, "He could be afraid for the safety of the school."

            "That might be the same for McGonagall.  It stands to reason that they would be afraid for the students," said Hermione.  

            "Who would break into Hoggwart's?" asked Ron.  

            "I don't know, but whoever did it, broke into that door to warn us," said Harry.    

            "Of what, Harry?  What do you think will happen?" asked Hermione.  

            Just as she asked this, the building began to shake and the sounds of a very powerful duel rocked the sturdy stone castle. The students began to scatter in all directions with shouting and cries of fear.  Harry and his friends ran toward the source of the disruption, the east courtyard.  As they neared, they could hear the sounds of Professor Dumbledore shouting the words to a whole host of spells as he battled the largest creature that Harry had ever seen.  It seemed to be made of solid rock, and all of ten feet tall.  It roared and pounded on the ground around it, to no avail.  Professor Dumbledore seemed rooted to his place.  Amid the falling debris, branches and shattered glass, Harry and his friends spotted a patch of emerald green on the other side of the monster.

            "Look!  It's Professor McGonagall!  She's hurt!" cried Ron.  Harry and his friends looked desperately at one another.  Professor McGonagall was a powerful witch.  This creature must be terribly resilient to resist her magic.  Professor Dumbledore shouted out another spell and the monster was thrown off his balance and stumbled backward.  Boulders fell from the creature as he tumbled backwards, dropping down around the unconscious witch.   The creature relinquished its struggle and fell, crushing the statue immediately behind it, and then completely covering the emerald-clad figure further back.

            "NO!" Harry shouted out.  The three kids ran out to Professor Dumbledore just in time to catch him as his weakened body threatened to give out from exertion.  The kids sat down hard on the ground beside Professor Dumbledore, their efforts to hold him up failing.  Hermione looked out over the area where the rock creature had fallen and fought back her tears.

            "But, but…Professor McGonagall…. she was…." Hermione stuttered.

            "Very, _very_ fortunate that my reflexes were faster than that _thing's_ or I would still be beneath it," said a voice behind them.  Harry's gaze snapped up.

            "Professor McGonagall!" cried Harry as the three students leapt to embrace her; an embrace that she for once gratefully welcomed.  She sent the kids off to return to the dormitories and reached to help Professor Dumbledore up off of the ground.  Harry's friends had bounded for the dorms, but he lagged behind, watching his teachers.  With uninhibited tenderness, Professor Dumbledore embraced his colleague.  Gently, he began to brush the dust and debris from her robes and she did the same for him.  Lightly, he reached to remove an errant leaf from her hair and his hand lingered over her cheek.  She blushed and looked down, trying to preoccupy herself with the perusal of her torn skirt, and the black petticoat showing from beneath it. But he lifted her chin with a finger, returning her eyes to his.   Two pairs of icicle blue eyes met, and a moment later, the two professors shared a sweet, however short, kiss.  A stunned Harry Potter rushed back to the dorms.  There was romance in the air at Hogwart's School.   

            Later, after the dust had settled and the sun had set, the students sat at supper with one another, chattering happily about their day.  Harry's smile gave Hermione the impression that he knew something that she didn't and it burned through her like acid through and aluminum can.  

            "Harry, what's with you today?  This morning you were terrified like something was going to go wrong and now you smirk as if you know what I'm getting for Christmas," said Hermione.

            "It's better than that, Hermione," Harry replied, glancing over at the professors' table "Much better."  The pair watched as Professor McGonagall joined the other teachers at the high table, nodding and smiling respectfully at her colleagues, watching carefully to be sure she didn't trip on her long skirts.  Professor Dumbledore rose from his place and extended his hand to guide her the rest of the way to her chair.  Her smile brightened considerably as she looked up from beneath the wide brim of her pointed hat, which sat, as usual, at a fashionable tilt on her head.  Harry couldn't hear what Professor Dumbledore had said to her, but whatever it was, it made her blush as she sat down beside him.  Hermione looked up in the same general direction, and then back at Harry.  

            "You're crazy," she stated, getting up to leave the table.  

            "Not half as crazy as you are!" taunted Ron, sitting down in the place that Hermione had just vacated.  "What's up with _her_ today?" he asked, shaking his head.  

            "It's February, Ron.  It's nearly Valentine's Day," said Harry.  

            "So?  Valentine's Day is for grown-ups.  All that hearts and flowers and mushy stuff—it's nothing but trouble, I say.  You can't tell me that _you_ have a Valentine, Harry," said Ron.  Harry had tuned out the majority of Ron's lecture.  He was busy beginning to wonder what girls their age liked for Valentine's Day.  He decided that it would be best to consult an expert.  Things like this couldn't be found in books, Harry knew.  He had checked the library himself—twice.  But whom to ask?  

            Poor Hermione.  She was miserable.  Curled up in the cozy corner of the library, between the fireplace and one of the high, expansive windows, she buried her head in a book, hoping that she had it up high enough to hide her eyes.  _"Hermione the Hermit!__  Hermione the Hermit!" _ the other Gryffindor girls had taunted her.  _"Hermione is going to grow up to be just like McGonagall.  She's going to be a hermit, buried in her books, potions and spells!"_

_            "And remind me to put a curse on you when I am a hermit!" _Hermione had shouted at them before grabbing a stack of books and running from the room.  The laughter of her dorm mates had echoed in her mind as she recalled the events.  She tried to convince herself that she shouldn't feel insulted.  After all, it was a compliment to be compared to Professor McGonagall, wasn't it?  Professor McGonagall was a powerful witch.  She was tall, graceful, generous, and fair.  She was also, at least when she smiled, very pretty.  She really was not the monster that everyone made her out to be.  

It's almost Valentine's Day, she considered.  She should be happy, right?  She should be looking forward to lots of cards and hugs from friends, right?  Perhaps…no.  She dared not even dream it, did she?  Perhaps there might be a boy who liked her enough to ask her to the Valentine's Day ball.  Hermione shook the daydream from her mind.  No one would ever want to be seen with 'Hermione the Hermit'.  

The week of the big day came quickly.  Most of the older students already had their minds made up whether they were going to the ball or not, and most of that group even had a date for the ball.  Hermione had had about as much of Valentine's Day as she could handle.  She had not received one card, or surprise, and of course, the only boys to cross her path either reminded her of her painful nickname, already had a date to the ball, or were named Ron Weasely.  And Ron didn't have a particularly keen sense of sensitivity.  She fled to the common room that afternoon to rest, relaxing into one of the huge stuffed chairs and beginning to cry again.  She cried so hard that she hardly heard the sound of footsteps coming down the spiral staircase…

            Meanwhile, across the school, Professor Snape had just released his class for the day.  

            "Didn't you hear what he said, Draco?   We could be expelled for using that on people!" cried Crabbe.  

            "Who says we'll be caught?  All we have to do is catch her off guard, and she's at our mercy.  Besides, lets see the old biddy fail me from inside this bottle!" said Draco Malfoy, producing a short, round, clear glass bottle from his robes.  

            "But how will you do it?" asked Goyle from nearby.  

            "We've got her class next, just watch me," hissed Draco.  

            "I don't like this, said Crabbe.  

            "Just relax.  I know exactly what I'm doing," said Draco.  

            "Take your seats please, class, we must stay on schedule today," said Professor McGonagall as her next class began to arrive.  She waited until they all were seated before beginning her lecture, noting the sly smile on Draco Malfoy's face.  It disturbed her, but she never let it show.  She knew that Draco was up to something but she couldn't figure out what.  

            The class was so quiet that she could hear her skirts swish as she turned her back to the class to write on the tall, narrow chalkboard behind her desk.  The early afternoon sunlight spilled joyfully through the windows, casting a halo over her hair and a gleam over the edges of her silver rimmed glasses.  The warmth of the sun seemed to energize her.  The sun brightened and Draco saw his chance.  He pulled the bottle from his robes and pulled the cork out.  Crabbe looked at him and shook his head in warning.  Draco sat up a little straighter and took out his wand.  He waited patiently until he could see it…just a little more…there!  He could see her shadow!

            "Silhouettous-Ensnare-o!" Draco whispered as he flicked his wand in the direction of his teacher's shadow.  Professor Snape had taught them that one could capture the soul of any creature by stealing its shadow.  Once bottled, the body would appear comatose, for the body can do nothing without the soul.  He had also warned the students never to try to do this, because people have been killed by accidental loss or breaking of the bottle containing the disembodied soul.  But mischievous Draco could not be deterred.  The shadow fled quickly to the bottle as commanded and Draco immediately stuffed the cork into the top.  

Professor McGonagall whirled around at the sound, but it was too late, she reached for the chalkboard to keep from falling and failed, dropping the rest of the way to the floor.  The students heard a crackling as her spectacles fell from her face and shattered on the ground half a second before she hit the floor herself, already unconscious.  

"Professor!" her students cried out, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil rushing forward to see if she was all right.  The way she fell made her students think something like a heart attack had claimed their teacher, but upon closer examination, one student found that she still had a very weak pulse and was still breathing very shallow breaths.   

Professor Snape, who was passing by and heard the commotion, came in and calmed the class, dismissed them, and ordered one of the older students to go find Professor Dumbledore.  When Dumbledore arrived, he fought to control his anger.  Professor Snape lifted the lifeless witch into his arms and Dumbledore followed him to the hospital wing.  Draco Malfoy beetled back to the Slytherins' dungeon common room.  He had what he had come to class for: Professor McGonogall's shadow.  

            Meanwhile, in the hospital wing, Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore arrived with their unconscious comrade and immediately Madam Pomfrey and her nurses attended to her as best they could.  In the end, they stood back solemnly, their faces cast downward.

            "There isn't much we can do for her, professor," said the Madam Pomfrey, "She needs her shadow.  I only hope that whoever did this sees her like this and finds his heart, because without her shadow, she will die."  Professor Dumbledore reached for Snape's shoulder for support.

            "How long will she last?" asked Dumbledore, not really sure he wanted to hear the answer.

            "She's strong, Professor; she's a fighter.  But the most optimistic number I can give you is about a week," said Madam Pomfrey as she gently shooed the men away and closed an area around the bed so that she could tuck Professor McGonagall under the covers of the bed.  Professor Snape ran his hand through his coal black hair, "This is all my fault," he muttered.

            "Professor?" asked Dumbledore, still in a state of numb disbelief.

            "My students have been reading ahead in their spell books and found the shadow spell in a sidebar article.  They asked me about it and I warned them that it was dangerous.  I told them that it has killed people and caused others to go mad, but I see I have failed in my attempts to keep them from such mischief," said Professor Snape.   

            "Severus, who would have done such a thing?" asked Dumbledore.

            "I don't know, Albus, but I promise you, whoever it is, they will have a train ticket home and an owl to their parents before they can say Quidditch," said Professor Snape.  

            While all of this what happening in the hospital wing, Harry had descended the spiral stairs to the common room, where he recognized Hermione's voice.  

            "Hermione?" he gently called, almost tiptoeing up to the chair.  In his hand were three of the fullest, brightest daisies that Harry could find in the greenhouse.  He had even asked Professor Sprout to help him select just the perfect blossoms.  She didn't usually grow garden-variety flowers, but she made an exception in February, when she knew that pretty flowers were sometimes the key to a pretty girl's heart.  Hermione raised her head and looked at him. 

            "What are you doing here?" asked Hermione.

            "I was coming to talk to you anyway, but I heard you crying down here and I came to see if everything was all right," said Harry.  Hermione shrugged.  

            "Hermione?" Harry began and then faltered.  He wasn't really sure how to say what his heart ached to say.

            "Hermione…I…"

            "Why do you keep saying my name?" Hermione asked.

            "Because…" he started, meeting her eyes, "it's lovely…and so are you."  Hermione's tears vanished.  She wasn't sure if she was dreaming or not, but he continued.

            "The truth is, Hermione…I know what people have been saying about you and I want you to know that I don't believe a word of it.  Who cares what they think, Hermione?  The people that really matter think you're wonderful…I think you're wonderful.  Getting to my point, would you like to go to the Valentine's Ball with me?" he asked, offering his gift.  The flowers reflected like many pointed stars in Hermione's inky black eyes.  She smiled for the first time in weeks and slowly took one of the flowers from his hand.  She tucked it into the buttonhole at the top of Harry's wizard's robe, and Harry in turn, took the remaining two flowers and tucked them into Hermione's hair.  Harry smiled back at her.

            "I guess I can take that as a yes?" Harry stammered.  Hermione smiled at him and leaned forward, gently kissing Harry's cheek and nodding silently before walking calmly upstairs.  Harry thought the room was spinning.  Had she really just kissed him?  Before he could go giddy with excitement, Ron burst through the portrait door and into the room.  He was out of breath from running and sank into the chair nearest to Harry.  For a moment, Harry forgot about Hermione's kiss and turned his attention to his best friend's wide blue eyes.

            "Did you hear, Harry?  Professor McGonagall fainted during her class today and some people said that her shadow was gone!  She'll die if whoever did it doesn't give her back her shadow!  Who would do this Harry?" Ron cried.  

            "Calm down, Ron!" Harry said, grasping Ron's shoulders, "What happened?" 

            "We were in transfiguration class.  She just started to lecture and then fainted as if she had had a heart attack or something!" Ron said, "It was terrible!  Do you think she's going to die, Harry?  Who would be the head of our house?"  Harry sat back.  Professor McGonagall?  Dead?  It was impossible for him to believe.  She couldn't die.  She just couldn't.  Harry wouldn't let this happen!  He fought back tears as he told Ron to go upstairs and calm down.  Harry went to the infirmary to see for himself.  Madam Pomfrey met him at the door.

            "You mustn't make a lot of noise, Harry.  She is so very weak that I don't expect her to even respond to your touch, but I expect that she can still hear if you want to talk to her.  I'm sure she would be grateful for the company," she told him.  Harry nodded and approached the bed where his teacher laid.  It was so awkward to see her like this.  Gently, Harry grasped her hand.  It was ice cold, but he could feel her pulse beating in her wrist.  

            "I hope you can hear me, Professor, because I must tell you something very important.  I don't remember much from when I was very small, but I do remember this: I remember a song--a song that until now, I didn't know who sang it to me or when.  It's as if all my life, I've had a song in my head that I could not place until this year.  I listened very carefully to my memory and I know who it was.  It must have been terribly difficult for you to leave a defenseless baby with a family that you knew was so terrible.  It was you.  You sang to me that night when you and Professor Dumbledore left me with my aunt and uncle," Harry said.  He drew a deep breath and began to recite the song from memory:

            _"Hush my little baby_

_            Rest, my love and remember_

_            Nothing here can harm now_

_            Hear my song and remember_

_            Tiny ship_

_            Upon the waves_

_            Though you're tossed and turned_

_            I will be there with thee_

_            Hear my song and remember_

_            Holding you in the night_

_            Smiling eyes in the moonlight_

_            This promise to you I here make_

_            I will always be near to you_

_            If you ever fear the night_

_            Sing my song and remember_

_            The promise to you I have made_

_            I will always remember!"_

            Harry looked up when he finished the song and watched tears stream from his teacher's eyes.  

"I didn't even realize it before, but now that I think about it, every time I thought that I was a goner for sure; every time I thought I couldn't be more miserable or closer to giving up, I would catch a glimpse of a gray tabby cat.  I never knew where it came from, and I never questioned it to be more than a neighbor cat.  But every time I hummed that tune, she was there.  That was no ordinary cat.  It was you, Professor.  You kept your promise…" Harry continued, slowly losing the battle to keep from sobbing.  She gradually began to squeeze Harry's hand and fought her eyes open.  Harry was so shocked he wasn't sure what to say.

            "You…remembered…" she managed.  There was no stopping it; Harry felt hot tears spill over his cheeks.  He nodded.

            "And now, I'm going to tell you the same thing.  I'm here, Professor.  I'll do whatever it takes to help you live through this.  You can't give up—not now, not ever.  Do you hear me?  You can fight this, Professor.  Please don't give up on me now!" Harry said, having to now remove his glasses because they were impossible to see through.  Slowly, Professor McGonagall nodded.  Harry was about to bend down to hug her when her grip slipped from his hand as she fell back into unconsciousness.  Harry nearly panicked.  "Please, Professor," he whimpered, "Please don't die!" 

            Classes continued, but the atmosphere of the school seemed tainted by the events of that week.  Professor McGonagall continued to deteriorate.  Her fever rocketed, and she would occasionally cry out under the strain of fighting for her life.  Professor Dumbledore seemed to be miles away.  For the first time in years, he missed a match of Quidditch, and merely read his lectures to his classes.  He seemed so drained that people began to worry that his shadow was going away as well.  The older students did their best to dispel the anxiety of their younger comrades, but it often did no good.  The mystery still remained: who would steal Professor McGonogall's shadow? 

            Crabbe was walking by the hospital wing three days after the attack, and he stopped contemplatively before the doors to the infirmary.  He had to see for himself.  He knew who had done this, but his own fear of Malfoy kept him from confession.  The pangs of guilt were not far from his mind.  He walked softly into the room and approached Professor McGonagall.  His knees weakened as he sat down in the wooden chair beside the bed.  Crabbe was shocked.  She was in more pain than he had imagined.  Malfoy had said nothing about the effects of the spell on the victim.  He covered her hand with his own and whispered as a tear threatened to fall from his eye, "I'm so sorry, Professor!" and nearly ran from the room.  He rushed back to the Slytherin common room to look for Malfoy.  

            "You have to give it back, Draco," said Crabbe, now flanked on one side by Goyle.  

            "Give me one good reason!" said Malfoy in disgust.  What were they talking about?  

            "She's dying, Draco.  You never said anything about killing a teacher.  This is serious, man," said Goyle, "Madam Pomfrey says she's not gonna live more than a week."

            "Good!  The quicker the better, my father always said," Draco spat back.

            "Man, nothing gives you the right to hurt people.  You're crazy," said Crabbe, "She's a pain but I don't want her dead.  Give it back."

            "Forget it!" Draco said, getting up and returning to his tower dorm room.  Crabbe and Goyle hung their heads.  What could they do to get that shadow back?  

            The next day was no better than the last.  Harry was about to stop and visit Professor McGonagall and stopped in the doorway.  Professor Dumbledore was already there, holding her hand and softly talking to her.  Harry smiled and decided against a visit just now.  They needed to be alone.  The two professors were more than just in love.  They had been close friends and trusted colleagues for longer than Harry could readily remember.  The match only made sense.  He looked in his hand at Professor McGonagall's shattered glasses.  He looked again at the pair and walked into the room anyway.  As he approached the bed, Professor Dumbledore looked up, and weakly smiled.

            "I'm afraid she's no better today, Harry," he reported.  Harry nodded.  He set McGonagall's glasses on the bedside table and took out his wand.  

            "Oculus-repair-o," Harry said, commanding her glasses to repair themselves.  Dumbledore smiled for the first time all week.   Harry turned to leave and Dumbledore stopped him.  

            "Professor McGonagall told me about the song and about your promise.  That's a very mature thing to ask of yourself, Harry," said Dumbledore.  

            "I meant what I said.  I'll find out who did this to her," said Harry.  Professor Dumbledore gave him a smile of calm resignation and nodded for him to leave.  He grasped McGonagall's hand again and bent to kiss her head.

            "Rest well, Minerva.  You'll need your strength.  Tomorrow is Valentine's Day you know," he said, "and I need my Valentine beside me."  He followed Harry out of the hospital wing and back to the Gryffindors' tower common room.  As they left, Madam Pomfrey stepped out of the shadows of the room and wiped a tear from her delicate, wide eyes.  Gently, she tucked the covers back up over Professor McGonagall's shoulders.

            "Oh, Minerva!" she said, "You simply _must hold on!_  He fancies—no, he _loves_ you so much!  This place would not be Hogwart's without you!" Madam Pomfrey wept there for a moment, unsure whether she should leave Professor McGonagall that night or not.  She could easily slip away during the night.  She finally decided that it would be the best to leave her.  

            By that afternoon, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had spent the day tracking down everyone that had been in Professor McGonagall's class that day and asking them what happened.  Many of them had been sitting too far back to see what was going on, even after the ruckus calmed down.  Harry sat back in his comfy chair.  Ron looked at him in frustration.

            "_Someone_ has to know what happened?  Weren't there a lot of Slytherins in that class?  Have we tried asking _them_?" asked Ron.  Harry could only stare into the fire.  

            "Harry, what's wrong?" asked Hermione.  

            "She's in so much pain, Hermione.  Do you think she's holding on for just us?" Harry said, tears streaking his face.

            "What are you talking about, Harry?  Are you suggesting that we let Professor McGonagall die?  After all we went through?" said Ron.

            "I'm saying maybe she's waiting for our permission to die," said Harry.

            "Harry Potter that's absolutely _morbid_!" cried Hermione.  

            "No it isn't.  She's afraid of hurting us so she's enduring pain that she doesn't need to take so that we don't have to mourn for her," said Harry.  Ron couldn't respond.  It was the most selfless thing the kids had ever heard.  He knew Harry was right.  Hermione was crying again.  

            "There has to be a way, Harry," Ron said, a little more softly.  He shook his head.  He told his friends that he was going to go to the infirmary before visiting hours are done for the day.  He was going to give their ailing teacher permission to die.  Ron and Hermione let him go.  Deep inside, they really weren't sure if he had the guts to actually do it, but then again, Harry could do anything.  When Harry had gone, Ron jumped out of his chair.  He ran up the stairs and rounded up his brothers.  There was more than one way to skin a cat.  

            "What's this about, Ron?" asked Fred, Ron's brother.

            "Yeah, you don't really think that you can get back McGonagall's shadow, do you?" said George, Fred's twin.  

            "Look, I'm almost positive that it was Draco Malfoy.  One of the Slytherin girls told me today that she saw Draco with his wand out when it happened.  She heard a spell being cast and she could have sworn it was Draco's voice," said Ron.

            "What makes you think that we can get in to Slytherin house to find out?" said Percy, the boys' next oldest brother.

            "That's where you come in, Percy.  You're a school prefect.  You can get to Slytherin's prefect and tell him what their house member said!" said Ron.  Percy thought for a moment.  The plan was good, but it might backfire.  What if Malfoy _didn't_ do it?  But still, they had to try.  This could be Professor McGonagall's last night on Earth if Harry does what he said he would.  Percy agreed, and the four Weasely boys ran the rest of the way to Slytherin tower.  

            "I have an official note to search this dormitory. We have reason to believe that someone in Slytherin is responsible for the attack on Professor McGonagall, " said Percy, showing a note with Professor Snape's writing on it to their house prefect when he demanded to know why the Gryffindors were there.   Reluctantly, the prefect stood aside, and called his entire house to sit down in the common room.  Malfoy didn't have time to hide the shadow, but he felt confident that it wouldn't be found.  

            Meanwhile, Harry leaned his back against the wall outside the infirmary door.  He was crying harder than he had been before.  This was going to be harder than he thought.  He decided he needed a few minutes to calm himself before he went in.  When he had managed to dry his tears long enough to walk in, he approached the bed only to find that Professor Dumbledore was already (or still, Harry didn't know which) there.  He nodded to Harry, revealing his red-rimmed, puffy, sleep deprived cobalt eyes.  Harry approached and Dumbledore seemed to know why he was there.  He grasped Professor McGonagall's other hand, and took a deep breath, slowly blowing it out.  

            "Professor?  Can you hear me?"

            "I found it!" Ron shouted to his brothers, as he returned to the Slytherins' common room, "Malfoy had it beneath his mattress!"  Suddenly, all of Slytherin House was staring at Malfoy.  His pale skin was growing more scarlet by the minute as the Weaselys dashed from the room and bounded for the Infirmary with Professor Snape on their heels.  

            "I just hope we're not too late!" said Ron.

            Harry couldn't believe what he was doing.  He softly began to speak as soon as he could once again find his courage to do so.

            "Professor McGonagall, you've been so good to us.  We know that you are in a great deal of pain, and we want you to know that…well…we don't think it's right for you to suffer.  If you don't think you can hold on…" Harry's tears threatened to overtake him as he spoke, and Professor Dumbledore found his own voice.

            "If it gets too hard, Minerva, we want you to know…that it's all right to rest.  It's okay to stop fighting.  You've done well…" Dumbledore said, his voice choking up as he spoke, reaching to stroke her cheek, "You've fought well…my love."

            Madam Pomfrey, who had, up until this point, been watching this scene, wrung the damp handkerchief in her hands and shooed the two out.  She sniffled and managed to say, "Go now.  I'll not having anyone, headmaster or otherwise, encouraging my patients to die," She gave Harry's head a gentle push and the two left.  They had just rounded the corner when Ron and his brothers arrived.  They burst into the infirmary, to the surprise of Madam Pomfrey, and came to a stop in front of Professor McGonagall's bed.

            "Is she?  I mean, are we too late?" Ron cried.  Percy felt gingerly for a pulse.

            "We're in luck.  She's weak, but we can give it a try," Percy replied.

            The next day didn't seem to hold the cheerfulness that it should.  It was Valentine's Day.  The ball that night would prove dull as far as Harry was concerned.  Ron hadn't even gotten out of bed that morning, and Harry wasn't in any mood to wrestle him out of bed for class.   

            That evening, nearly the whole school turned out for the Valentine's Day Ball.  Hermione tiptoed downstairs in her beautiful periwinkle blue dress robes, her Gryffindor cape hanging over her shoulders.  Harry was waiting for her at the door to the common room, his own cape fastened over his own midnight blue robes.  He offered Hermione his arm and reached for the door.  Hermione stopped him for a moment.

            "We did all we could, Harry.  She wouldn't want you to be so sad," she said.  Harry nodded, swallowing tears that accompanied the memory of the previous night.

When they arrived in the grand ballroom, it was like stepping into a fairytale.  People were everywhere, dancing on the vast ballroom floor, standing or sitting along the walls, or talking around the punch bowl and refreshments as they munched.  They saw a long row of chairs on the other side of the room, where some of the teachers were sitting.  He could see Professor Dumbledore, but he didn't seem to be himself.  Harry and Hermione took off their cloaks and walked to the dance floor.  It didn't take long for them to get swept up in the adrenaline rush of the music and the concentration that it took to keep up with the older students as well as the teachers as the whole mass of people seemed to revolve not just in pairs, but as a mass of people, around the room.  Suddenly, the doors opened, and the music came to a stop.  For a fleeting second, Harry imagined that Cinderella had entered the room.  At Hogwart's, anything is possible.  When he and Hermione made their way to the front of the crowd, they saw why everything had stopped.  At the door, dressed in her finest emerald green dress robes and cape, topped with her best pointed hat, was none other than Professor McGonagall.  Harry and Hermione couldn't resist running to her open arms.  She pulled the two close and held them for a few moments before reaching behind her to pull another surprise from the doorway.  A head of bright red hair told them that Harry and Hermione's reluctant friend had saved the day.  

"Ron!  What happened?" Harry said.  

"We did it, Harry!  We found her shadow.  You and Professor Dumbledore must have just left as we got there!" Ron said.  Harry wasn't sure what to say.

"Ron…I could just…" Harry stammered.  Ron just nodded and the boys threw their arms around each other.  Professor McGonagall smiled at them as Harry looked up at her again. 

"You know, Harry, I owe both of you boys my life.  If it hadn't been for your encouragement and Ron's determination, I wouldn't be here," Professor McGonagall said.  She looked up after this, and her blue eyes scanned the room.  She needn't have looked far.  The whole school held it's breath as Professor Dumbledore made his way over to her.  Harry, Ron and Hermione moved to one side as he came near, reaching with trembling hands for those of his best friend.  

"Minerva…" he muttered, plainly fighting for control of his emotions.  She didn't even try.  

"Albus…" she said, letting Dumbledore take her hands in his.  For a moment, time stood still as he looked at the woman he thought he would never see again.  In a moment of simultaneous spontaneity, headmaster and deputy headmistress shared a heartwarming embrace as their students and colleagues cheered. Dumbledore looked at his life's love with eyes that could have melted the polar ice caps and caressed her face.  Once again, the room was quiet for an eternity of seconds before the two shared a kiss that sent tiny shockwaves down their spines.  The cheers began to die down and the music began again moments later.  Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione seemed to have forgotten the week's hostility and began to dance.   Rumor has it, Dumbledore and McGonagall danced with no one else the whole night.  

***3 Months Later***

            Spring birds flitted through the air that morning.  Classes had been cancelled for that day ("Just this once" according to Professor Dumbledore) so that all who wished, which was everyone, could attend the biggest event to hit Hogwart's since it's creation: there was going to be a wedding!  

            The students sat excitedly in the massive chapel in the castle.  The chapel had not been used in nearly a century, and it was now it had been cleaned and decked out in silk and taffeta of every imaginable color draped over strategic places and a long, dark purple carpet ran from the massive wooden doors to the steps just before the simple altar.  At the steps stood the teachers, men on one side, women on the other, and Professor Dumbledore before them, staring at the door and waiting.  The music of an organ that played itself filled the air with sweet music as Harry and his friends found places near the front to sit.  Suddenly, two of the Seventh year students from each house, each pair carrying their house banner processed down the aisle.  First Hufflepuff, then Ravenclaw, then Slytherin, and finally Gryffindor.  They reached the altar and two pairs flanked each side of the steps.  Then the tune of the music changed and every person in the room rose to their feet and began to search for a good look around the person before them, for a silhouette suddenly filled the sunny doorway and materialized into the ravishing bride, Professor McGonagall.  A hush fell over the chapel as she stood up straighter, if that was possible, and soaked up the sunlight as she glided slowly down the aisle.  

            Harry was profoundly impressed.  His teacher was nothing short of radiant.  She was dressed from head to toe in a creamy off white gown, trimmed in gold embroidery.  There were gold ornaments in her hair, and her matching winter cape looked snug trimmed in white rabbit fur, and, like her gown, gold embroidery.  To crown the outfit, she had a matching white witch's hat with crisp, snowy white feathers in the shimmering gold band, its brim scattered with miniature coralline roses that matched her blushing cheeks.  She was simply beautiful.  Most of the students had never seen her wear anything but black and green, and they would all cherish this miraculous vision of her forever.  

Professor Dumbledore was awestruck as he watched his bride seem to float down the aisle.  He was dressed quite well to match her, also dressed in cream white and gold from his freshly trimmed hair and beard, all the way to the floor, where the gold trimmed hem of his robes fell and covered his white shoes.  His own pointed hat was accented by a single, larger bud of the same dusty pink roses that adorned her hat.  The sunlight flashed off Dumbledore's half-moon shaped glasses as he pronounced his wedding vows, holding the hands of the love of his life:

"One can go through life letting hundreds of people cross their path.  There are but a precious few that stay with us.  Those that stay become our most valuable treasure.  Friends stay with us loyally through thick and thin.  They defend us, comfort us, mourn with us, and, most importantly, they love us.  It is from among our friends that a true soul mate comes.  You, my beloved, are my soul mate, my best friend, my colleague, and my life.  I am everything I am today because you believed in me.  I look into your eyes and I see love so pure, that my heart melts in the radiance of their light.  I am everything I am, everything people give me credit for because you loved me—they call me the greatest wizard of all time, but I pale in the divine light of my inspiration.  I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, promise to take this woman as my wife.  My love for her will grow each day, further outstretching the bounds of physical limitation, for I can love no other.  Through difficult times we will stay strong, and through good times, we will drift like swans on a lake of glass.  I will love her until and after death steals the breath from my chest, for true love can never die.  I will cherish her and hold her as long as there is life in my veins."

The chapel was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop.  It took a moment for Professor McGonagall to recover from his words; no one had ever said anything nearly so beautiful to her before.  She took a deep breath, squeezed his hands, and began to speak herself, not sure if her own personally written vows could even come close to the tidal wave of emotion that he had just expressed to her.  The light fell in rainbows of color down upon them from the stained glass windows as she drew her breath again, smiled, and began to speak:

"Life can be so unpredictable.  Our friends become a comforting element of stability in our lives.  Every year at Hogwart's brings new faces, new adventures, and new events.  In the midst of all this newness of life there is an easily seen element of familiarity.  Familiarity becomes friendship and friendships, with the right amount of care and time, become love.  Albus, the love I feel for you cannot be measured.  You have so often encouraged me and comforted me.  You've supported me when I've made difficult decisions, and defended me when I was in danger.  You even loved me enough…" she paused as she choked back tears, "You even loved me enough to let me go." The tears fell against her will, shimmering in the sun as she continued,  "Now I stand before you, and I've never been more sure of anything in my life as I offer you the rest of my life as your wife.  I, Minerva Charlotte Victoria Jennifer McGonagall, promise to take this man as my husband.  In good times and bad, we will be strong.  In sickness (the tears threatening to spill again) and in health, we will thrive.  For richer or poorer, we will not cease, as long as I live I will be faithfully committed to you and follow you wherever the path leads us until death separates us from our mortal bodies, and we continue into the after life as true soul mates."

The wizard minister who was presiding over the celebration finished the ritual, now and forever sealing them in a bond of holy matrimony.  The bride and groom placed rings on each other's hands, and finally, Dumbledore was granted permission to kiss his bride.  He looked at her with his customary mischievous twinkle in his eyes and pulled her near.  If the two hadn't known any better, they would have thought the clock had stopped and time had stood still entirely when their lips met, and applause erupted from the throngs of people. 

 The organ began to play again, and Professor Dumbledore turned around to face the door and offered his bride his hand as the minister cried out, "Ladies and gentlemen, it is my great honor to present to you, Professor and Mrs., Albus Dumbledore!"  The applause and cheering reached deafening proportions as Dumbledore led his new wife to the door of the chapel.  At the door, one of the Hufflepuff girls cried out, "Professor!  Professor!  Throw your bouquet!" Laughing, Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore launched up the stairs to the high choir loft where they looked out over the crowd.  Cameras continued to snap and flash, wanting to capture as much of the joy of this day on film as possible.   Professor McGonagall turned away from the crowd and tossed her bouquet of roses down to the crowd and laughing at the reaction of the people as a certain red-haired Gryffindor girl caught the precious flowers, the two made their way down the stairs again, pausing for a moment there to allow people to take more pictures before they emerged into the open air of the courtyard, and the entire procession went to the Quidditch field, where a tournament would be held that day in honor of the bride and groom.  From that day on, there was always a Quidditch match every year on that day to celebrate the anniversary of the marriage that changed the atmosphere of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry forever.  

That evening, the feast prepared to celebrate the wedding was such, as the students had never seen before.  Even Draco Malfoy couldn't help a look of sheer, innocent surprise upon seeing such a feast.  Of course, he was watching the feast from the door to the Great Hall as he waited, with all of his things stacked up behind him against the wall.  Attacking a teacher was grounds for expulsion, and Draco's father was on his way to take him home.  Draco's already pale skin grew whiter as he considered his empty stomach and the tanning he knew he was in for when he got home.  

            The group hardly noticed when Malfoy had gone, and the grand ball after the feast went on long into the night.  Systematically, the students were sent up to bed until only the teachers remained.  It was nearly midnight when the enchanted instruments played their last song.  

            When the music stopped, both bride and groom stopped and made a deep bow.  When they turned and looked around they were astonished to discover that they were alone.  The last of the professors had left only minutes before, the last of which being Madam Pomfrey and her escort.  Pomfrey herself lingered at the door to watch the newlyweds gracefully sweep across the floor.  With a tender sigh, she had turned to go, leaving the two to finish the dance.

            Now, with a wave of his wand, Dumbledore swept the room clean and extinguished the torches and lamps.  With the customary mischievous sparkle in his eyes, he offered his bride his arm, and the two retired for the evening, or what was left of it.  

            The newlyweds had not yet decided whether it was wise to share a bedroom or not, but one thing was certain: this was their wedding night, and this night was to be shared.  They reached Professor McGonagall's lofty tower bedroom and went inside, softly shutting the door behind them.  

            Dumbledore reached around his bride's shoulders and unclasped the heavy cloak for her, his hands lingering on her shoulders.  McGonagall fought to repress a shudder.  Her heart was beating a bit quicker than it usually did.  She and Dumbledore had been friends and colleagues for years, but she had never felt like this before.  

            She turned to him, letting the cloak fall from her shoulders, and felt her knees begin to give way.  The gaze he returned to her was so pure.  Love…hopeful, faithful, eternal, passionate love…she had never seen anything like it before.  Before she could fight it, a tear trickled from her eye.  She was awed.  He reached forward and pulled her close to him, tipping his head to hers and kissing her.  It was so natural, so relaxed…it was as if they had done it every day.   When they pulled apart, Albus looked deep into her eyes and murmured, "Oh, Minerva.  I've loved you for so long!"  Minerva's legs nearly failed her.  Her whole body shivered as though a sudden draft had blown through the room.  Albus wasted no time, and soundly kissed her again.

            In the morning, as warm, golden sunlight spilled over the emerald bedspread, Minerva McGonagall, now a Dumbledore, softly moaned and stretched with feline relaxation.  She was snug beneath the covers of her bed, her hair a mess of chestnut curls over her bare shoulders, and she could feel the breath of her beloved, slow and even in her hair.  She smiled as she noticed both her own glasses, and Albus's own half-moon shaped spectacles lying on the night table.  His arms were secured around her waist, and now one hand moved slowly up to her arm and caressed it, all the way from her elbow to her shoulder and back. Gently, he nosed over and lightly kissed her ear.  She chuckled softly at his playfulness and wondered idly what day it was.  Suddenly it dawned on her…_Monday!!!_  Albus watched with merriment as his bride rushed about the room, dressing and making herself presentable.  She was inexcusably late for her first lecture, and she knew that her colleagues would find it particularly humorous that she was late for classes the morning after her wedding night.  

            "The least you could do is get up, Albus!" she hissed.  Dumbledore only chuckled and reached for her hands.  She returned to the bedside, having wound her hair into its customary bun, and fixed her emerald cape about her shoulders.  Pouting slightly, she placed her hands in his, her turquoise gaze penetrating his twinkling cerulean scrutiny.  

            "Minerva, my love, you must learn to relax.  I can't have you making yourself ill.  Your class will be there when you arrive," he said, kissing each of her hands and then her lips.  She lightly fingered the half-moon shaped, gold-edged glasses that were perched perilously close to the end of his nose, and idly straightened an errant segment of long white hair.  

            "I love you, Albus.  How did I ever live without you?"

            Professor McGonagall transfigured herself into a cat and bounded down the corridors and breezeways that lead to her class.  Just as Albus had said, her class was waiting for her.  She stopped before the door, returned to her human form, and took a deep breath before entering her classroom.  The snickers she was anticipating never happened.  Instead, she entered into the room to a silence, and her students patiently waiting.  She murmured apologies for her tardiness, and began the class.

            After class, Harry, Ron and Hermione walked together to the other end of the school for their next class: double herbology with the Hufflepuffs.  Harry couldn't help noticing that there was something different about Ron today.  He seemed to be off in space when Harry talked to him, and he couldn't help but notice that his gaze was wandering absentmindedly towards Hermione.  Harry noticed that Hermione had changed her tune as well.  She didn't seem to mind Ron's prattling on about the Chudley Cannons, nor did she seem to mind that he was mutilating the poor plant he was pruning for lack of attention, let alone the fact that she was doing the same thing.  

            Later that night, Harry caught Ron sneaking a perfect red rose back into the common room with him.  Hermione was in the armchair across from him in front of the fire, and he closed his schoolbooks, feigning exhaustion.  He made a hasty retreat up the stairs as Hermione called out, "Goodnight, Harry!" He heard the muffled sound of Ron and Hermione talking and then a soft gasp from Hermione as Ron produced his rose.  

            "Ron!  What's this for?" Hermione asked, her tone bordering on pure awe.

            "The truth is, Hermione, I can't stand the fact of any other boy getting your heart unless it's me.  You went to the Valentine's Day Ball with Harry and I couldn't help feeling like it should have been me.  I wanted to be Harry all night.  I…well…I've grown very fond of you, Hermione," Ron said, keeping amazingly calm for how hard his heart was pounding.  

            "You probably don't feel the same way about me, but I needed you to know how I felt about you," Ron said, his eyes cast towards the floor.  Hermione lifted his chin with her hand and did the exact opposite of what Ron expected: she kissed him.  Not on the cheek like she had kissed Harry--not even close.  This kiss was strategically placed on his lips.  Hermione could feel the heat starting to come from his freckled face, its color flushing quickly to a bright crimson.  

            Harry, meanwhile, had changed his clothes and gone to bed, awaiting Ron's return to the dormitory.  He was anxious beyond sleep to hear how Ron's mission for Hermione's heart had gone.  He got his answer moments later as Ron tiptoed into the room and climbed into bed himself.  

            "Well?" whispered Harry.  Ron sighed in reply.

            "She kissed me, Harry!"

            A week later, Harry awoke to dark storm clouds thundering outside of his dormitory window.  He pulled himself out of bed and dressed, running a comb through his tangled mess of dark hair, and went down to breakfast.  The mood in the great hall was exuberant, as usual, and the students, as well as the teachers, chattered happily away as they ate, despite the rumbling outside.

            For some reason, Professor Dumbledore didn't seem his cheerful self this day.  Perhaps it had something to do with the smug, pale, blond and blue-eyed boy sitting at the Slytherin table.  

            "Wasn't he expelled?" asked Hermione.

            "I thought so," said Ron, "His dad's on the board of governors for the school.  I'll bet his father bullied Professor Dumbledore into letting him back in."

            "I'll bet Professor McGonagall had something to say about it, too," said Harry, imagining the shouting match that probably ensued as Dumbledore proposed allowing Draco Malfoy back into the school.  He always was famous for giving people second chances.  

            "He would never admit it if it did upset him," said Harry.  The others nodded.  They decided to play it cool.  Whatever Malfoy did, it paled in comparison with what he had inflicted upon poor Professor McGonagall, and if she lived to tell the tale, then they too would learn to live with him.  

            "We'd better get going.  We have Transfiguration in a few minutes," said Hermione, nodding toward the door where some of their classmates had already left.  The three left the Great Hall together, heading up the staircase to class, and to what promised to be a very interesting lecture.  

            They reached the Transfiguration classroom and chatted lightly as they waited for their teacher.  

            "Hey, Weasely!" a voice cried out behind them.  Malfoy was there, accompanied by his usual entourage of Crabbe and Goyle, plus Pansy Parkinson and her own gang of Slytherin girls.  

            "Malfoy!  What an unexpected and _bloodcurdling_ surprise," Ron retorted.  

            "You better watch your step Weasely," Malfoy threatened, his icy eyes narrowing into slits before them.

            "Or what?" Ron replied defiantly.  Harry saw what was coming and stepped between them.  

            "If you so much as touch him, Malfoy, I'll personally escort you out a window," said Harry.

            "You want a piece of this, Potter?" asked Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle drawing nearer as though he had called them.  

            "Oh stop it!" said Hermione, annoyance heavy in her voice, "Why can't you just stay away from us?"  Hermione grabbed hold of Malfoy's sleeve and yanked him back away from Harry and Ron.  Malfoy backhanded her in retaliation and Hermione flew across the room, sliding against a wall.

            "What's going on here?" shouted a voice from down the hall.  Professor McGonagall was coming, and she saw what Malfoy did to Hermione.  

            "They started it, Professor!" cried Pansy Parkinson.

            "I know what I saw, Miss Parkinson," said Professor McGonagall, "Fifty points will be taken from Slytherin for fighting in the corridors."

            "_Fifty!_" several of the Slytherins cried in outrage.

            "Sixty!" shouted McGonagall as she slammed her books on the desk.  Harry and Ron grinned at each other secretly.  They liked this new fury in McGonagall.  Now maybe the Slytherins would get a taste of what it was like for the Gryffindors to be in Professor Snape's potions class.  

            The rest of the day was as good as its beginning.  The three retreated to the Gryffindor tower that night to do their homework, each one with an armload.  The impending Easter vacation looked more and more like a new excuse to give them homework everyday.  

            "What was it Professor Trelawney said today about the rotation of Jupiter?" asked Ron after a silence of a nearly half an hour.

            "She said something about it being in retrograde with the Earth.  She gave that silly example of me being in danger of dying again.  Weren't you in class today, Ron?" Harry replied.  

            "Of course I was, but I fell asleep with all that perfume and stuff she keeps in that place.  She really needs to open the windows more often," said Ron.  The three laughed.  Suddenly, they heard a lot of shouting and running out in the corridor and dropped their books to go and see.  

            Out in the hall, the ruckus was centralized near Professor McGonagall's bedroom door.  When the kids reached it, they could see Madam Pomfrey, and several other people all crowded around an unconscious figure on the floor.  As the kids approached, the figure roused itself and sat up.  It was Professor Dumbledore!  The window in Professor McGonagall's room was shattered from top to bottom, and her pointed hat lay crumpled on the floor.

            "We were attacked by a madman on a black winged horse. He took Minerva…" dizziness overcame the dutiful headmaster and husband and he collapsed again to the floor.  The kids stepped into the room found a piece of parchment floating about the room.  Harry jumped and caught it, spreading it out for Ron and Hermione to read over his shoulder.  

            "Where's Isolation Peak?" asked Harry.

            "I heard that a dark wizard lived there.  He always aspired to be the most powerful wizard in the world and couldn't tolerate it if anyone was better than him.  Kind of like the Evil Queen in the story of Snow White," said Hermione.

            "Snow White?" asked Ron, one eyebrow in serious danger of passing his hairline.  Hermione rolled her eyes in reply.

            "It's a muggle fairytale.  Honestly, didn't you take muggle studies?" said Hermione.  

            "Isolation Peak!" cried Professor Flitwick, walking into the conversation.  The kids surrendered the parchment and peered around the dwarven professor to see Madam Pomfrey finally waking Professor Dumbledore long enough to get him up and guide him to the hospital wing.  

            "That must have been one powerful stunning spell to have worked on Professor Dumbledore," said Harry.

            "It was in fact a very powerful curse, Potter," squeaked Professor Flitwick.  His small body quivered while he spoke.  Obviously, he feared whoever this dark wizard was also.  

            "Is Professor McGonagall in great danger?" asked Hermione innocently. 

            "Oh, yes, Miss Granger.  This wizard will stop at nothing to prove that he himself is the greatest wizard of all time.  If he believes that Professor Dumbledore is a better wizard than he…oh dear…he will show no mercy toward anyone Dumbledore cares about," Flitwick replied.  

            "Who is he, Professor?" asked Ron.

            "He was once the greatest Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher Hogwart's had ever seen.  He taught here when I was a young wizard.  His name made people shake in their robes.  He never ate with the other teachers; never spoke with anyone but the headmaster.  His classes were eerie and frightening, but you learned your defense.  His name was…" the poor man fought a tremor of fear as he finished, "Professor Mephistopheles.  His very name meant evil!  It was once said that he took a fancy to a teacher while he was teaching here and tried to woo her.  He frightened her so badly that she fled Hogwart's under cover of night.  She was found the next morning, frozen to the ground in a patch of frost, as if someone had held her to the ground and allowed her to freeze in the cold of the night!"  Flitwick said.  

            "That's so sad!" said Hermione.

            "That's not the half of it, Miss Granger," said Flitwick, "It was the month of May!" 

            The next day, Professor Dumbledore was well enough to leave the hospital wing.  Immediately following his release, he returned to his room and lifted his wife's pointed witch's hat from his bed.  He fingered it lightly, feeling the energy of the event that had transpired the previous night.  

            He walked deliberately to the shabby looking hut that Hagrid called home and firmly knocked at the door.  

            "Hagrid, I need your help old friend," said Professor Dumbledore.

            "Need me?  Why, Professor, whatever for?" asked a surprised Hagrid.  Minutes later, Professor Dumbledore was tenderly patting the neck of Hagrid's strongest, fastest hippogriff.   Hagrid held the reigns of the beast as Dumbledore mounted him.  

            "Be careful, Professor.  It be a dangerous journey you undertake," said Hagrid gravely.  Standing back, Hagrid nodded and continued, "I know how much Professor McGonagall means to you, Professor.  Bring her home safe." Dumbledore nodded, and then urged the creature into the air.  Hagrid stood in the courtyard and watched until he could no longer hear the screech of the gentle, giant hippogriff and turned somberly to return to his house.  

            Minerva McGonagall Dumbledore awakened in a damp dungeon cell.  Her head was pounding, there were shards of glass protruding from her emerald green robes, most likely from her bedroom window, and there appeared to be no one within earshot to hear her if she called out.  

            Out of the shadows, a very tall, dark shadow of a man stepped into view.  His intimidating features made Minerva shudder with fear.  She could see a strong build, jet-black hair and blue eyes that turned her blood to ice in her veins.  She could almost feel her energy draining, as if she were convinced that she were suddenly in the presence of a Dementor.  He opened the barred door to the cell with a graceful sweep of his hand and Minerva found herself subconsciously inching back toward the wall.  

            "Greetings, Professor McGonagall.  Welcome to Isolation Peak," he said, betraying his voice to be one of smooth tones.  However soft his voice sounded, there was a sinister undercurrent that nearly made Minerva faint as he continued, despite the panic raging in her breast, "I, if you don't know already, am Mephistopheles the Great, and this is my home." 

            "What do you want with me?" Minerva asked, finding a streak of boldness.

            "It is not so much you with whom I wished company," he said, stepping forward to lightly stroke her cheek and lift an errant segment of her hair, "but your newlywed husband, Albus Dumbledore.  However, your lovely countenance will suffice for now."

            He stretched out a hand to her, but when she looked up at him, as if to ascertain his intentions, he suddenly swept the same hand in a circle before her eyes and she lost consciousness, falling limp into his open arms.  He lifted her up and carried her to one of the tower rooms.  There, he laid her on the bed, gingerly straightening her robes before he swept a hand over her cheek again in almost-admiration and was gone, his black robes fluttering out behind him.  

            Flying over the countryside, Albus Dumbledore looked as Isolation Peak came into view.  The only way to reach it was to fly or to apparate, and he shuddered at the thought of his bride locked away somewhere within the twisting and turning hallways, spiraling towers, and cloud-covered battlements.  He forced himself to push out the worst-case scenario playing out in his head.  Minerva was a powerful, headstrong woman, not to mention a talented witch.  He managed to somewhat convince himself that she would be able to fend for herself until he got there.  

            Minerva awoke with her wrists bound in iron shackles.  The chains from these were securely anchored to the wall.  She couldn't slip her wrists out of the restraints, and lay back against the pillows on the bed.  Her head still hurt from the powerful sleeping charm that Mephistopheles had used on her.  She lay there for who knew how long, and then made a startling realization: she was an animagi!  Without another second's worth of hesitation, she turned herself into the slender gray and black tabby cat with black spectacle shaped rings around her eyes, and slipped easily from the chains.  With this, she leapt down from the bed and squeezed through the crack in the door to the adjoining room.  

            As she was bounding down the corridors and around the corners, she paused at the top of a staircase.  It was steep and looked tricky to descend, even for an agile animal like a cat.  She was about to take her chances and jump to the first step when a pair of hands grabbed her around her midsection and lifted her.  She fought the grasp, scratching and hissing at her assailant, but to no avail.  Slowly, the woman in her rematerialized in the arms of Mephistopheles.  

            "You know better than that, Minerva!" said Mephistopheles, holding her tightly, "You didn't really think that you could get away from me that easily, did you?  I should by all rights punish you for this incursion."  

            "Where are you taking me?" Minerva asked, her teeth clenched in her struggle to escape him.  He dragged her down the hall to the same tower room that he had detained her to before.  This time, however, he remained there with her for over an hour, and Minerva's screams of pain and anguish echoed like a quickly fading memory down the gray stone corridors.  

            Back at Hogwart's, Hermione emerged from the shelves in the library and slammed a book down on the table before Harry and Ron, raising a faint cloud of dust.

            "Is that really necessary?" asked Ron, coughing away the musty smell of the old book.  

            "I found it!  Isolation Peak is the home of Professor Mephistopheles Damon the Great.  He taught briefly at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry before retiring to his abode deep in the mountains," Hermione read, "Oh dear…" 

            "What is it, Hermione?" asked Harry.

            "Mephistopheles is reputed to be one of the most powerful dark wizards of all time.  Terribly zealous, he is known to viciously threaten, attack or even…even murder those that stand in the way of he becoming the most powerful, greatest wizard in the world," Hermione continued.

            "So you're saying that he kidnapped Professor McGonagall to get Professor Dumbledore to meet him on his own territory?" asked Ron.  Hermione nodded gravely.

            "He will stop at nothing to make sure that he is better than Dumbledore.  If he even thinks for one moment that Professor Dumbledore is better than him, which obviously he already has, he will not rest until he has everything that Dumbledore has, and more," said Hermione.

            "Could he have been the one who broke into the school so long ago?" asked Harry.

            "Hey, that makes sense!  It could have been a henchman of his too!  Wait a minute…you don't think he would…?" asked Ron, unable to finish the question.

            "Come and try to take over the school?  No, too many people here are loyal to Professor Dumbledore.  However, if Professor McGonagall isn't careful…" said Harry.

            "You don't really think that he would (gulp) _kill Professor McGonagall_ do you?" asked Ron, reducing his voice to a hoarse whisper.  The three looked at each other with fearful glances.  Hermione shut the book they were reading and placed it carefully back on the shelf.  

            "C'mon," she said, nodding toward the door, "It's almost dinner time.  We should go.  We should leave this to Professor Dumbledore."           

            "But, Hermione, if there was anything we could do…" Harry sputtered.  

            "Harry, no!  We can't risk ourselves and certainly not you.  Professor McGonagall would have our wands if we let anything happen to you," said Hermione.

            "Yeah," said Ron, "We'd lose our best seeker on the Quidditch team, not to mention the one person alive who's been attacked by You-Know-Who and lived!" 

            Harry rolled his eyes, but nevertheless followed his friends out of the library and down to the Great Hall for dinner.  When Professor Dumbledore didn't appear for the meal, the kids looked at one another in fear.  Had their headmaster done what they were thinking he had done?  

Far away, near Isolation Peak, Albus Dumbledore charmed himself a door to get into the castle, though not undetected.  Away on the other side of the castle, Mephistopheles knew about it, and sent a small contingent of well-trained goblins to take care of the intruder.  With this, he took Minerva by her hands, bound them together and forced her to follow him.  They heard the helpless screams of Professor Dumbledore as the goblins attacked him.  The sudden quiet frightened Minerva.  Was he in trouble?  Could he be dying?  Struggling as he pulled her down the hallway, she took a chance and screamed out, "Albus!  Albus help me!"  Mephistopheles performed a jaw-bind charm, and led her further up into the largest and highest tower of the castle.  

After disposing of the goblins, and screaming to make it sound as if he has perished by the goblins, he then heard his wife's scream, Albus took off in the direction of the echo, walking with as much determination as though he were saving the most important person in the world.  Which, actually, he was doing.  After all, Minerva was the most important thing in his life.  She was his inspiration and his closest friend.  To call her the love of his life would be an understatement.  

Albus pushed on through the castle, desperately wishing that Minerva would cry out again, somehow letting him know that she was near.  Suddenly, near the center of the castle and the staircase that led to the tallest tower, Albus heard it again: his wife's voice.  

She cried out in pain as he twisted her wrists to get a better grip on them as they ascended the stairway.  At the top of the stairs appeared to be some sort of chapel, perhaps built into the structure by its original owners, but obviously not used by Mephistopheles until now.  

"When I took possession of this castle," Mephistopheles explained, "I had envisioned marrying my first love here.  But she didn't cooperate, and I must say, the news of her rejection was met with a very _frosty_ reception!  So now, Minerva, with the _unfortunate_ demise of your husband, you will marry me.  I will have all that Dumbledore has and more!  Soon, all wizards and witches all over the world will bow to me as the greatest wizard on Earth!  And you, my precious jewel, will be my queen…" Mephistopheles said, bending to kiss Minerva's cheek.  She squirmed and pulled away, not wanting this madman to touch her any more than he already had.  The terrified minister in the room warily began to marry them on the dark wizard's command, all the while, Mephistopheles struggling to keep his bride in check.  Minerva's head spun.  Was Albus really dead?  Had he fallen at the hands of this monster?  If it was true, then she had no choice.  Mephistopheles had made a widow of her, and he would have the power to marry her.

Minutes into the ceremony, Minerva heard the sound of a deep voice shouting an exploding spell, and the heavy wooden door shattered into slivers at their feet.  Minerva took advantage of the momentary distraction to shout, "Expelliarmous!" and the flash of the defensive charm blew them both backwards in opposite directions.  Minerva hit a pillar near the center of the room, and Mephistopheles hit the far wall on the other side, just missing one of the large stained glass windows.  

            Albus Dumbledore, very much alive, strode into the room.  Mephistopheles shouted a spell to secure Minerva to the spot she sat upon on the floor, and Albus suddenly pointed his wand at him, silently daring him to stand and fight like a man.  

            "I'm the one you want, Mephistopheles, not her," Dumbledore said calmly.  Mephistopheles stumbled to his feet, pulling his own wand from his side pocket.  

            "On the contrary, Dumbledore, I don't want you either.  I want what you are.  I want everything you have and more.  I am the greatest wizard in the world and we both know it.  Concede to this, and I'll let your wife live," countered Mephistopheles, lifting his wand in Minerva's direction; "Surely, you wouldn't put your pride over the life of a helpless woman?" Still as calm as he had been, Albus replied, "I'm afraid you're the one who's mistaken.  My wife is far from helpless.  She has faired well against you thus far," said Albus, taking a fearless step toward his opponent.  Suddenly, at the exact same moment, both men pointed their wands at each other and cried out different charms.  Albus looked at his opponent; Mephistopheles found himself suspended in the air by spider threads.  He fought to regain control and pull free of the spiders' silk, but as he struggled, it only got worse.  Albus made for the other end of the room to release his wife, but before he could reach her, Mephistopheles pulled free and dropped to the ground.  From there he screamed out a summoning spell, and the room was suddenly filled with trolls.  Albus began to fight them off one by one as they approached he and Minerva.  

            "Albus, there are too many!  You can't fight them all!" cried Minerva.  Mephistopheles took advantage of this distraction and pulled Minerva away from the scene.  

            "No!" she screamed, "Albus!  Albus, help me!!" It was no use; he couldn't fight them and save her.  He would have to make a choice.  But wait!  There could still be hope!  Mephistopheles pushed Minerva to the floor.  "I **will** have you for my own!" he cried through gritted teeth.  Minerva fought valiantly, but couldn't seem to get him off of her.  Her clothes were tearing and slowly she began to go numb with fear.  No, this isn't happening!  She thought.  This can't happen!  

Albus suddenly straightened and pulled himself up to his full height.  He took a deep breath and cried out a spell that Minerva had never heard.  The trolls began to shake with fright and stampeded for the door.  Many knocked themselves out pushing toward the door, but the majority escaped the small tower chapel.  Mephistopheles charged at Albus, enraged, his eyes flashing with fury and his dark hair flying behind him.  Once more, Albus cried out, "Expelliarmus!!" and Mephistopheles flew backwards across the room and through the window, shards of stained glass flying everywhere.  Albus rushed to the window and watched as Mephistopheles the Great fell the dizzying distance to the ground, falling with a great crash through the skylight in the atrium and landing in the arboretum, crushing some of the smaller trees and the branches of others as he fell.  

            Relief rushed through Minerva's veins.  She forced her shaking body to stand, trying desperately to stifle the tears she had been harboring inside all this time.  Albus rushed to her and pulled her into the safety of his arms.  She looked up at him, his blue eyes shining like morning dew, her voice quivering.

"You came for me!" she whimpered, her chest still heaving. As she fought to catch her breath, she reached up to stroke his face.  He mimicked her touch and reached to take her face in his hands as he replied, "I would have died for you!" 

The kiss that ensued from this statement could have sent a shockwave echoing ecstatically across the mountains.  Albus and Minerva began the trek back down through the castle to where Albus had left the hippogriff.  But when they got there, they realized something very important:  They could clearly see into one window of the arboretum, and they didn't see the body of their newly vanquished adversary.  The two seemed to think the same thought at the same time: this new enemy was only interested in possessing what Albus had.  _The school!!_  The two quickly mounted the hippogriff and bounded for the school.  "I only hope we're not too late!" Minerva cried.  

            When Mephistopheles, broken, bleeding, frightening and furious arrived at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the perfect, cloudless weather was replaced with seemingly instant storm clouds, thunder, and lightning.  Rain in large, heavy drops poured from the skies as the dark wizard bore down on the helpless school.  Those that saw him coming ran, the teachers braced themselves, herding the children back to the dormitories and banding together to defend the school.  They all knew about this menace, but none knew how to defend themselves against such a fiend.  

            Across the courtyard and down the long corridor, Harry was very nearly running toward the site of the attack.  Ron and Hermione followed close by, begging him to reconsider.

            "Harry, no!" cried Hermione, as if she had said it for the hundredth time.  

            "I will not sit here while the teachers are all massacred!  Not if I can do something about it!" Harry shouted back at her.  "_Accio Firebolt!_" Harry's broomstick, the ultra-fast Firebolt, soared down the hall toward them a minute later, floating directly into Harry's waiting hand.  

            "Wait!  I'm going with you!" shouted Ron.

            "You would never be able to keep up with me!" shouted Harry, now several feet in the air.  "Stay here!  You and Hermione can cover me from the ground!" 

            Ron and Hermione watched helplessly as Harry soared into the turbulent black clouds.  Lightning crackled in the sky, sending Harry helter-skelter about in the air.  Where was this Mephistopheles anyway?  Certainly, he couldn't be worse than Lord Voldemort and Harry had been able to deal with that.  Harry chided himself.  He mustn't let his pride get the better of his judgment.  He had narrowly escaped the last encounter with Lord Voldemort with his life, and one of his friends had perished in the scuffle.  Harry remembered these things, and it began to gnaw at his courage.  For a split second, he contemplated going back, but stiffened.  He had to do what he could to help save the school!

            Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall came into sight of the school just as their adversary drew himself up to his full height and began to glow a haunting, terrifying red.  The form of the man that looked only like a speck from the ground materialized into the horrifying, gigantic shape of a dragon.  

            "Albus, hurry!" Minerva cried, as the dragon grew and manifested into a dark, blood red, fire-breathing monster.  

            Down on the ground, inside the castle, Professor Flitwick trembled in fear.  Professor Snape rolled up his sleeves and fearless Madame Hooch came to the foreground, followed by Professor Sprout.  Hagrid joined them moments later, telling them that all of the students were now safely locked into the dorms.  Now all they needed was a strategy.  Oh, what they would not have given to have Professor Dumbledore there to help them!  

            Harry was skimming the treetops as he searched for a point at which to begin his attack.  He was about dive toward the creature when he felt a tug on his sleeve that nearly pulled him off his broom.  

            "Harry, let me help you!" cried a familiar voice.  Harry turned around to see none other than Cho Chang, a fellow Quidditch seeker.  She played for the Ravenclaw, and Harry had grown very fond of her this year.  

            "Cho!  Cho, you shouldn't be here!" Harry cried.

            "No one else in the school can keep up with you except me.  Let me help you!" Cho replied defiantly.  Harry gave in.  He and Cho devised a plan and then together, soared toward the dragon.  Closing in on the castle, Albus and Minerva watched as Harry and Cho bolted toward the monster and followed.  

            Harry and Cho worked like a Quidditch Seeker tag-team to fly circles around the dragon, confusing it from zeroing in on its real target.  As it swatted at the students, the faculty members saw their opportunity and layered defensive spells three deep and aimed them at the creature.  Before he knew what was happening, Mephistopheles was on the ground, still in dragon form, bound in Professor Sprout's creeping vines spell, paired with Professor Flitwick's repulsion charm and Madam Hooch's time-out charm, which pinned the dragon to the ground for five minutes.  

            Those five minutes were just what Dumbledore needed.  He drove the Hippogriff down to the ground, dismounted, and he himself approached the dragon.  Above, on the school grounds, the teachers could hardly believe their eyes.  Hagrid peered through a pair of binoculars to better see what was going on.

            "It's Dumbledore!  He made it back!  Look!  He's found McGonagall!  Professor McGonagall's alive!" Hagrid cried.  The faculty cheered and then watched as the dragon began to recover its senses.  The great tail of the creature was covered in long spikes, and the two students didn't even see it coming.  Before they could both get out of the way, the tail swung and caught Cho and slammed her to the ground, shattering her broomstick and pinning her to the earth with one of the smaller spikes near the end of the tail.  It struck and went clean through her shoulder, holding her to the spot.  Harry screamed and flew to her aid.  Professor Dumbledore performed a charm that forced Mephistopheles to transfigure back into a human.  When the dark wizard re-emerged from the rubble of vines and dirt, he angrily approached the headmaster, spitting and cursing Dumbledore with everything he had.  As the two wizards battled, Harry knelt at Cho's side.  He quickly took stock of the damage and it made his heart race: she would have multiple broken bones and perhaps internal injuries resulting from the fall, not to mention the puncture wound to her shoulder.  He reached for her and begged her to wake up.  

            "Cho!  Answer me, Cho!" he cried.  She weakly opened her eyes and reached for Harry's hand.  

            "It's no use, Harry," she said in a voice barely stronger than a whisper, "I'm done for." 

            "No!  Don't say that!  We'll get you to Madam Pomfrey and you'll be just fine!" Harry said, already knowing that what she said was true.  Harry reached to pull the tail spike from Cho's shoulder but she stopped him, "It's the only thing keeping me from bleeding to death," she said.  

            "Cho, please hold on!  You have to!" he cried.

            "Why?" Cho asked, fighting back the pain of trying to breath.

            "Because…Because…Cho?  Cho, wake up!" Harry cried, making her open her eyes again before he continued, "Cho, I really like you!  I've had a mad crush on you all year!  You simply have to hold on!"  Cho smiled.  "I've…always liked you…Harry…" Cho replied.  Harry's eyes were growing wider the longer he watched; she was slipping away.  

            "No!"  Harry whimpered as the grip of her hand began to loosen.

            "I'll always care about you, Harry," Cho said, beginning to struggle for breath, "It hurts to breath…I'm scared…I don't want to die!" Harry didn't know what to say, he had only seen someone die once that he could clearly remember and he really didn't want to have to go through the same thing again.  Suddenly, Cho's eyes closed, and she released his hand.

            "No!" he screamed, "No! Cho!  You can't die!  Oh, God, please don't die!" He began to sob, his tears falling like rivulets onto her dying body.  He didn't realize it then, but his tears hissed and crackled as they fell into Cho's wounds.  Harry pulled the spike from her shoulder and lifted her into his arms and rocked her as he cried.  Unbeknownst to Harry, the faculty members had begun to gather about the two students.  Dumbledore and McGonagall joined them, their enemy across the field, finally and permanently vanquished.  Harry's tears continued to fall, as Madam Pomfrey came running across the grounds with Ron and Hermione right behind them.  Hermione saw what had happened to Cho and buried her face in Ron's shoulder.  She just couldn't watch.  Without warning, Cho's body twitched in Harry's arms.  Harry was crying so hard, he nearly didn't notice it when she reached up to touch his face, wiping the tears from his eyes.  

            "What's going on!" cried Harry.  Professor McGonagall couldn't believe what she was seeing, but Dumbledore simply smiled and said, "Look at her, Harry."  Harry did as he was told, and Cho's eyes met his.  He looked, stunned, back at Professor Dumbledore.  Cho's shoulder was healed, and all that was left of her injuries were a few bumps and bruises, and a concussion from the fall.  Harry was still dumbfounded.  

            "How did I do it?" he asked.  Professor Dumbledore shook his head and chuckled softly as he tucked his wife's hand in the crook of his arm and kissed her cheek before replying, "How many times do you need to show this power before you recognize it?  It's love, Harry.  Neither you nor Cho wanted to leave the other not knowing how they truly felt.  Harry looked back at Cho.  She was smiling, her radiant Asian complexion and wide brown eyes shining as though they might outshine the sun.   Harry leaned in close to Cho's face and whispered, "Cho?"  She smiled wider and answered, "Yes, Harry?" 

            "Can I kiss you?"

It was until the following fall that Harry saw his friends again.  Uncle Vernon was considerably less hostile this summer, and Harry was able to sneak letters out with Hedwig to Ron, Hermione, and Cho.  Cho always wrote back immediately.  Once, Hedwig had returned in the same day with a letter from her that was three times longer than the one he had written to her.  They had gotten to know one another considerably well over the summer months, and both were looking forward to classes beginning again this fall.  As it was now, it was the night before Harry's birthday, and he couldn't wait to be fifteen.  

Far away, at the castle, the professors were already back and preparing for the impending commencement of classes.  As Harry was snuggling into his bed at his aunt and uncle's, anticipating his birthday, Professor Dumbledore was settling into bed beside Professor McGonagall.  Lovingly, Albus wrapped his arms around his wife and kissed her head.  

"Another year, Minerva," he murmured.  She sighed and nodded.  "The children will return soon," she said.  

"Which brings me to my question.  I have an idea, but I wonder what you would think.  We both know a certain young Gryffindor who could do with a change of atmosphere," Albus said. 

"Are you talking about Harry?" Minerva said, lifting her head.  

"Yes.  I…I wonder if he would rather be closer to his own kind," Albus continued.

"What are you suggesting, Albus?  He is already with his aunt and uncle and they are his only family.  The Weasley's have cared for him for parts of each summer, but they cannot afford to feed another mouth.  Where are you going with this?" asked Minerva.  

"Us, my darling.  We are far past our prime and our hopes of having children of our own are very slim indeed.  Harry would benefit from an upbringing such that he deserved from birth: to be raised by two wizards.  What say you, my love?  Might we adopt Harry?" Albus said.  Minerva rested her head against Albus' chest.  She wasn't sure what to think.  She had never been a mother, and wasn't sure she was fit for the job, but the thought of having a child of her own warmed her heart.  She was fond of young Harry, even though she feigned her strictest of attitudes around him.  But to become his mother?  Minerva just wasn't sure she was up to the task.  

            Far away, dawn was peeking over the horizon in Surrey, and Harry Potter was beaming.  Today he was turning fifteen years old, and today he was looking forward to hearing from Ron.  Ron's family usually took Harry school shopping with them, and spending time with Ron and his family was one of Harry's favorite parts of going back to school.  

            Harry went downstairs, expecting to see his aunt and uncle as they usually were, seated around the kitchen table: Uncle Vernon with his paper, Aunt Petunia with her fruit, and Dudley, his cousin, shoveling everything he could possibly get into his mouth as fast as he could get it in there.  When he arrived, he wasn't disappointed.  The only difference about this day was, to his surprise, his trunk was already at the foot of the stairs with Hedwig and her cage sitting upon it.  Without a word, Dudley and Uncle Vernon helped Harry load his trunk into the car and they were off to the train station.  

            Harry paused for a moment as he buckled himself into the car.  He looked up at his uncle and said, "Thank you for your help."  Uncle Vernon just harrumphed and continued to drive.  None of them said a word, but they helped Harry get a trolley for his trunk and were gone.  He really didn't mind this, though, because seconds later, he spotted Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny Weasely with their mother.  They had already done Harry's shopping for him, and were ready to board the train.  They helped Harry to load his new books into his trunk, and then, together, the kids boarded the train, loaded down with snacks and sandwiches from Mrs. Weasely and watching her wave wildly as her children (she considered Harry one of these as well) slipped out of sight.  

            That night, after all the festivities had finished, and all the kids were settled into their rooms, Professor McGonagall asked Harry to come with her to Professor Dumbledore's office.  Along the way, she asked him about his summer.  Chatting was never something that Professor McGonagall did.  Harry surmised that something was up.  When they reached the headmaster's office, Dumbledore stood and looked at Harry.  He had changed considerably since the last time they had seen him.  He had grown taller and more handsome, his shoulders broadening and his voice beginning to change.  

            "What's going on, Professor?" asked Harry.  They hardly knew how to begin.  They explained their idea--their plan to adopt him and raise him as their own.  After they finished, there was a deafening pause in the room as Harry tried to absorb what he was hearing.  Harry?  Become Dumbledore's son?  Get away from his abusive aunt and uncle and disgusting cousin?  Be free to contact his friends during the summer months and spend time with them?  Be free to spend time with his Godfather, Sirius?  As he thought all these things, Dumbledore and McGonagall stood before him, McGonagall clutching her husband's arm as she watched the expression on Harry's face changing in thought.  Harry looked up at their hopeful stares.  Dumbledore seemed so much calmer than his bride.  Harry saw past the anxiety in their eyes; Harry found love there.  There was only one thing left to say…

            "Yes!" 

            Harry launched himself the short distance between he and his new parents and sank into their open arms.  The long sleeves of their robes covered Harry as they held him, so happy that he had agreed.  Professor McGonagall's attitude changed literally overnight.  Suddenly, Harry was the jewel in her crown, and she began to smile more often.  It was as if she was a different witch.  The students were baffled, and only Harry, Ron and Hermione knew the truth.  

It was nearing Christmas now, and as usual, most students were making arrangements to be home during the holidays.  Harry didn't expect this Christmas to be any different from any other.  The Yule Ball was a week away, and Harry was looking forward to it for the first time.  He and Cho had made arrangements to go to the ball together, and Harry's sixth year at Hogwart's was weaving into a tapestry of good days and even better nights.  

Harry returned to his room the day of the ball and was greeted by a special treat: a brand new set of dress robes was spread across his bed.  The material was soft, light, and the blue color of the sky when it is just seconds from nightfall.  Harry reached out and touched the fabric; it felt cool and soft beneath his fingers. In the dim light he could see teeny tiny silver stars gleaming all over the material, making it shimmer gently in the fading light of the afternoon.  

"Do you like it?" said a voice from the doorway.  He looked up and saw Professor Dumbledore standing at his bedroom door. "Professor McGonagall and I decided that since you're a Dumbledore now, you ought to look like one." 

Harry was too flattered to speak.  Not even yet their child and already, the two were treating Harry as their own.  

"We spoke to your aunt and uncle this weekend, Harry.  They resisted the idea at first, but we were able to convince them that it was for your better good that you be raised by wizards," said Dumbledore.  

"How did you do that?  They were so against my parents in the first place," said Harry.

"That is for me to know, and for you to know later on," replied Dumbledore gently.  Harry lifted the new robes from the bed and swung them over his shoulders, turning to look in a mirror.  Harry looked positively regal.  He still couldn't believe that this was true.  He was Dumbledore's son now--quite literally a prince among his classmates.  They looked at him a little differently now, seeing as how he was now the only child of Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall.  

"Are you alright, Harry?" asked Dumbledore, resting his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Yes.  I'm just feeling a little…well…different, that's all," said Harry.  Dumbledore smiled as he stood with Harry, the mirror reflecting the image of the new father and son.  

"May I help you get ready…son?" asked Dumbledore gingerly.  Harry looked through the mirror and up at his headmaster and father and smiled.  "Yes…father."

            The Grand March for the Christmas Ball began at exactly 7:00 p.m. At the head of the procession, Professor Dumbledore fairly glowed as he and Professor McGonagall, both dressed in their holiday best, began the march down the center of the grand ballroom.  After them came Harry and Cho.  Harry had been nervous about this dance last year, but this year he was comfortable and smiled at Cho as they walked.  Cho was dressed in dark, royal purple, the shape of her robes influenced by her family's ancient oriental home.  The neck of the garment rose above the collar, and the whole thing was embroidered with the smallest, most delicate of gold cherry blossoms.  Cho's hair was wound up on the top of her head and held in place with gold pins and barrettes.  Cho looked like a princess, and Harry's eyes shined with undisguised admiration.  As the first song began, Harry brought Cho from his side to face him, getting the full effect of her smile as he pulled her close to him and took the lead.  

            _"There is something that I see_

_            In the way you look at me_

_            There's a smile there's a truth in your eyes_

_            In an unexpected way_

_            On this unexpected day_

_            Could it be this is where I belong?_

_            It is you I have loved all along! _

_There's no more mystery_

_            It is finally clear to me, _

_            You're the hope my heart's searched for_

_            So long! _

_            It is you I have loved all along!" _

As Harry and Cho swept across the ballroom, other couples joined them, students and faculty alike.  Out of the corner of her eye, Cho saw something unusual.  Draco Malfoy had just entered the ballroom in his own flattering dress robes, his customary bravado showing through loud and clear.  What was so unusual about this scene was his date: dressed in her lavender silk robes and her hair smooth, shiny and slicked back to a bun at the nape of her neck, was Hermione Grainger.  She didn't look at all happy, and fought Draco's touch as he tried to pull her out to the dance floor. Draco forced Hermione to dance with him, but her eyes darted around the room, as if to search for the rescue she so desperately needed.  

            Harry and Cho decided that this was up to them to clear up.  They danced in the direction of the unhappy pair and Harry smoothly cut in.  Cho slipped off to the side, avoiding Draco all together as Harry swept to one side with Hermione and was soon far across the room. 

            "Hermione, what happened to Ron?" Harry asked.  

            "Draco got his thugs to attack Ron up in the dormitory.  By the time I was ready to go and came to meet him, Draco was there and he forced me to come with him.  He's only doing it to make you angry, Harry," said Hermione, fighting the tears from her eyes.  

            "What did they do to him?" Harry asked.

            "I don't know.  I couldn't get close enough to see.  We have to do something!" said Hermione.  She and Harry left the ballroom minutes later, heading toward Gryffindor tower.  The two passed through the portrait hole and launched up the stairs toward the sound of Ron's voice.  

            Crabbe and Goyle had Ron tied to his bedpost.  He was bruised from head to toe, and his dress robes were in tatters.  They could see that they had dunked Ron's head in the bucket of ice water, (the bucket was still there) and they had used their wands to cast a terrible curse on him.  Unfortunately, it was one that Ron was all too familiar with.  Every few seconds, Ron would heave up a slug, slime and all, and it slipped from his mouth to the puddle on the floor by his knees, soaking his already ruined robes.  Every time Ron belched up another slug, Crabbe and Goyle took turns kicking or hitting him.  

            "Stop it!" Hermione screamed.

            "Who do you think you are?" shouted Harry.  The two boys slowly moved from Ron's place at the foot of the bed over to stand toe to toe with Harry and Hermione.  None of them needed to say a word, because right behind them was been Professor McGonagall, and she had seen the whole thing.  Goyle saw this and stared Harry in the eye, "What's wrong, Potter?" he sniveled, "Couldn't have handled this like a man?  You had to have your mum here to back you up?"  Harry could have socked him.  Instead, he felt the hand on his shoulder and leaned imperceptible inches closer to Goyle's face and said very slowly, as though to make sure every syllable penetrated the boy's abysmally thick skull, "Don't you ever talk about my mother."

            After McGonagall had gone, Harry and Hermione were left to help Ron.  They untied him, used their wands to clean up his robes and reverse the curse, and allowed him to rest a moment and get a glass of water before they urged him to finish the evening with them at the Ball.  

            "C'mon, Ron.  I have a dance with your name on it," said Hermione.  The three smiled and made a run for the ballroom.  When they arrived, Hermione made a request to the band, and returned to Ron's side, slowly pulling him out to the dance floor with her.  

            _"I don't know what it is that you've done to me_

_            But it's caused me to act in such a crazy way_

_            Whatever it is that you do when you do what you do to me_

_            It's a feeling that I want to stay_

_            'Cause my heart starts beating triple time _

_            With lots of loving you on my mind_

_            I can't figure out just what to do_

_            When at time the cure was you!"_

            Hermione draped her arms around Ron's shoulders and the look in his eyes was priceless.  He was so relaxed.  It seemed so natural for him to react by pulling Hermione closer to him and whispering to her as the music seemed to move their bodies to the rhythm all my itself.  Harry and Cho smiled, Harry nodding for them to join the others on the dance floor.  

            _"I get so weak in the knees_

_            I can hardly speak _

_            I lose all control_

_            And something takes over me_

_            Every day you look so amazing_

_            It's not a phase; I want you to stay with me_

_            By my side _

_            You're love is so sweet it knocks me right off of my feet! _

_            Can't explain why your love it makes me weak!"_

            Draco watched as Hermione nudged a little closer to Ron and his face contorted into a sneer.  He knew that Crabbe and Goyle were in for detention, but he wasn't going down without a fight.  He left the ballroom not long after, his next plan already brewing in his head.  

            After Harry had walked Cho back to her own house common room, he meandered back to his own, a grin as wide as the River Thames on his face.  He could still smell Cho's perfume and hear the melody of her voice.  When he arrived at their common room, he peered through the portrait hole and heard the music from the ballroom playing softly in the background.  On the other side of the room, close enough to feel the heat from the fire were Ron and Hermione, still dancing as though they had never left the ball.  Now Harry knew why the Fat Lady had been smiling when she opened the door.  Harry smiled himself and tiptoed by, looking back from the stairs just in time to see Ron reach up and cup Hermione's face in his hands.  His thumbs gently brushed over her cheeks before he leaned forward and closed his eyes, lightly nudging Hermione's nose before his lips made contact with hers.  Just as if she had been expecting it, Hermione leaned into the kiss and let it linger for a few precious, tingling moments before pulling away from him.  

            "Are you all right, Ron?" Hermione whispered.  He looked at her as if she were the only thing that mattered in his life.

            "You're the one I've looked for all this time…you're the one I've loved all along.  Hermione, do you love me?" Ron asked.  Hermione took a moment to brush awe-struck tears from her eyes before she replied, "I love you as I could love no one more."  

            Harry had heard all he needed to hear.  He finished the ascent up to his room and snuggled into bed.  Before long, Ron arrived also, pulling the covers over himself and sighing in contentment as he drifted off to sleep.  Harry smiled and audibly sighed himself as he drifted off himself.  He had no idea that the next morning, the unthinkable would happen.  

            Hermione and Cho disappeared that night.  Snatched from their beds as they slept.  The next morning, Harry and Ron were not at all happy, and both knew precisely who to go looking for.

            Charging down the halls, Harry was walking with determination.  The click of footsteps told him that his mother was not far behind him.  

            "Harry," she said, catching up to him, "I don't advise what you're about to do."

            "He nearly killed you last term, he attacked Ron and Hermione the night of the ball, and now Hermione and Cho are missing.  He's not getting away with this anymore.  I will not continue to allow him to bully me and everyone I care about!" Harry cried, "He just crossed the line."  McGonagall stopped in her tracks and watched Harry continue down the hall.  Dumbledore walked quietly to his wife's side and watched.

            "Oh, Albus," she murmured, "I don't like this!" 

            "We have to let Harry work this out for himself.  He and Malfoy will never be on equal footing because Draco feels that Harry is somehow above him.  There isn't anything we can do about that," He replied.

            "Isn't there now?" said a voice from behind them.  The two turned to see the one person they needed least to see: Lucius Malfoy.  

            "If the rumor is true and he truly is your son, then you will be able to convince him that this is the inappropriate course of action, will you not?" he said smoothly.

            "If such a convincing were possible, Lucius, then you also would be able to convince your own son that bullying other students is not appropriate," said McGonagall, her voice steadily lowering to a growl.  

            "My dear woman," Lucius snarled, leaning forward and down a bit to meet McGonagall's eyes, "Have you any idea how quickly I could have you removed from this place?"

            "Are you threatening me?" McGonagall replied, her right hand already reaching for her wand, "How would you like to be able to sympathize with what your son did to another student last night?  He was belching up slugs until 10:30 while your son stood by."  Before the two could get so close that their noses touched, Dumbledore stepped between them.  

            "Lucius, I'll not have you threatening my family.  Indeed, I'll not have you threaten anyone on these premises.  Harry and Draco must work their differences out or you will take your son elsewhere.  If that is your choice, I will also see to it that you are promptly removed from the board of Governors for Hogwart's," said Dumbledore.  McGonagall straightened her back and relaxed her wand hand.  Lucius did the same, and leaned to speak into her ear as he walked by, "What's wrong, Minerva?  Must your husband fight all of your battles for you?"

            McGonagall nearly drew blood as she bit her tongue in an effort not to escalate the problem.  As soon as Lucius was out of earshot, she took off down the hall in direction Harry had taken.  

            "Where are you going?" Albus asked, cautiously following her.

            "I'm going to cheer on our son!" she cried out, tears of bottled fury brimming in her eyes.  Dumbledore followed, suddenly not sure what he was walking into.  

Meanwhile, on the edge of the dark forest, Harry charged through the trees, the sword of Godric Gryffindor in his hand.  Draco was going to pay for this, once and for all.  

When he reached the first clearing in the forest, he noted the screaming voices of Hermione and Cho and it only made him angrier.  By this time, Ron had joined him, and the two charged through to a scene that Harry hoped he never had to see.  

Hermione and Cho were each chained by their wrists to a tree and it was evident that Draco had been beating them.  Crabbe and Goyle stood by on the sidelines, and yelled to warn Draco when Harry and Ron showed up.  Spiders dropped out of the trees at Malfoy's command and wove webs down the trunks of the trees, effectively trapping all of them inside.  

"This ends now, Draco!" Harry cried, brandishing the sword from his robes.  Draco didn't even flinch.  He looked at Harry with the cold, merciless eyes that usually characterized his disposition.  

"Are you familiar with this site, Potter?" he asked, "It's called Salazar's Snare.  Slytherin enchanted this area before the school was built.  He meant for it to be part of the castle's dungeon area, but it was unfortunately left out.  Oh well, better for me to use now!" Draco lunged forward and cracked a whip in Hermione's direction.  She screamed and shrank back in terror, tears staining her usually fearless expression.  Harry had to physically restrain Ron.  "I'm gonna kill him…I'm gonna kill him if he lays a hand on her one more time!" Ron cried, gritting his teeth.  

"Pick on someone your own size, Malfoy!" Harry cried.  Draco pulled a sword of his own from his robes, and advanced toward Harry.  While all of this was happening, a tall shadow moved around the enclosure.  A pair of cool blue eyes watched the match from this distance.  He flinched as the swords came together for the first time, but from there, kept his eyes glued to one of the boys, silently cheering for what he only knew to be the inevitable.  

When Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore reached the web-enclosed clearing, they struggled to see through the mesh to ascertain the situation.  The webbing was impenetrable, and it was all they could do to keep from shouting through to their only child.  

CRASH!  CLANG!  BOOM!  The sounds of the boys duking it out inside the natural arena were too much for McGonagall to take.  She buried her head in her husband's shoulder when Harry suddenly cried out, and they watched a fuzzy shadow drop to one knee on the ground and shake as he struggled to force back his opponent's sword.  

"Oh, Albus!  How much more of this?" she whimpered, "I could have handled this last year, but Harry is…he's my son now, Albus, and I can't stand this!" Dumbledore only pulled her closer and held her.  

"He's _our_ son, Minerva.  I know how you feel," he murmured back to her.  Suddenly the curtain of silk webbing fell and revealed Crabbe and Goyle lying in a heap at Ron's feet and Harry standing with his sword inches from Malfoy's throat.  From the shadows emerged the Dumbledores, plus the other shadow, none other than Professor Snape.  Harry's eyes never left his nemesis even though he knew that Snape was coming.  

"Professor!" cried Draco, looking helplessly at his teacher for help, "You see how Potter treats me?" 

"I see how you treat your classmates, Malfoy.  You've had this coming," said Snape, taking a step away from them.  Ron backed away to allow Crabbe and Goyle to stand and come closer to the center of the clearing.  

"Ron, untie the girls," said Harry without moving his sword or his eyes.  The next one to arrive on the scene was Lucius Malfoy.

"Draco!" he cried, showing the first shred of human, fatherly concern in the years that the family had been part of Hogwart's.  Draco began to show genuine fear.  Harry spoke to him for the first time in the battle, "Get up, Draco."  The younger Malfoy cautiously stood and squared his shoulders.  Harry was still pointing the sword at him, and so Draco waited to hear the rest of what he had to say.  

"Go.  If I ever find out that you are picking on another person for the rest of our years here, I will hunt you down, and next time, I won't be so sympathetic," said Harry.  Draco backed away slowly, and then ran to his father.  Lucius looked harshly at his son for a moment.  Draco hung his head.  This was the second time he had shamed the family.  Suddenly, the father in him softened, and Draco seemed to sense this, for he looked up at him, undisguised surprise in his eyes, and nearly wept.  Lucius pulled his son into his arms and held him.  When this happened, poor Professor McGonagall could resist no longer and rushed forward to fold Harry into her arms.  He dropped the sword of Gryffindor as his mother approached and succumbed to the warmth of her embrace.  Dumbledore joined them, tenderly wrapping his arms around his family.  

The girls, now free, stood and stretched their tired muscles.  Hermione, still crying, threw herself into Ron's waiting arms, sinking to their knees as her weakness overcame her too much for her to stand.  Cho looked about and walked toward Harry, who untangled himself from his parents' grasp and turned to face her.  Harry broke into a run and met her half way, sweeping her up into his arms and swinging her in a circle.  

"All right, Cho?" Harry asked, setting her back on her feet.

"All right, Harry.  And you?" Cho replied.

"Never better, Cho, never better," Harry whispered.  Gently, Harry brushed the hair out of Cho's delicate brown eyes and smiled.  

"Cho?" Harry asked.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Can I kiss you?"

**The End**


End file.
